To Do or To Die
by CerenbusSnapeMalfoy
Summary: Draco is given a list of ten near-impossible tasks in order to redeem himself after the war. He is to do ANYTHING necessary to complete them, his one rule- he can't tell anyone. Should he fail, only death awaits him, but to succeed would be to gain rewards beyond the imagination.
1. Chapter 1

"The Ministry has put together a new law for the likes of you… they're giving you a list of ten tasks to perform to test your morals, and should you fail, they won't even bother shipping you off to Azkaban… they'll kill ya on the spot."

"And should I succeed?"

"Ha! Let's just say… you won't."

Draco Malfoy stared after the Ministry official as the cocky man sauntered away, leaving Draco to stand just outside the courtroom, waiting to be trialed by the Council of Magical law. It was unfair, he had spent several years avoiding Azkaban due to a last minute change of sides in the war, and now, after all those years, a couple of aurors had tracked him down and dragged him (literally) to be trialed. And it wasn't as if he was battling against being given a one-way ticket to Azkaban… he was playing the cards of life and death now, and should he play the wrong hand… he was doomed.

Draco took in a long, sharp breath, startled as he felt a hand clasp around his forearm as he was pulled into the courtroom and shoved down into the seat in the middle of the room. He looked around nervously as all the eyes in the room shifted to him. As he gazed around the circular room that somewhat reminded him of a prison cell, he felt dread sinking heavily upon him. What were these tasks he kept hearing of? What if he couldn't complete them? How hard could they be?

There was a loud crack as the judge brought down the gavel on his podium. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, you have been brought before the Council of Magical law so that we may pass judgment upon you for crimes-"

"That I committed nearly five years ago… with all due respect, your honor, I thought I had been cleared of all charges _years _ago. Why bring me here now?" Draco interrupted as politely as he could, though the judge clearly did not like the disruption in his speech.

The bespectacled man leaned forward on his podium, glaring at Draco from under his glasses. "I do not _appreciate _your interruption, mister Malfoy."

"Yes sir." Draco hung his head, staring at his boots, twisting his fists angrily in his lap as he waited for the man to continue.

"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical law so that we may pass judgment upon you for crimes such as fraternization with the enemy, affiliation with Death Eaters as well as many others, far too many I'm afraid to be mentioned here."

"Objection! I was excused due to the fact that I did not participate in the final battle, nor did I give away the identities of the three known as Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and your very own Harry Potter." Draco called.

"Noted." The judge waved away his objection and continued as if he had never spoken. "The council knows of your sudden change of heart at the start of the war, mister Malfoy, and that is precisely why there isn't a cell in Azkaban with your name on it. The Ministry has created a new way of punishment for witches and wizards who defected from the war known as the Defects Doom, and that punishment was given to your parents earlier this year as you well know."

Draco stared up at him, then hung his head, willing himself to not feel the pain he always felt at the memory of his mother and father who had been executed early that year due to their failed attempts to complete whatever bloody tasks it was the Ministry had come up with. He was not at all looking forward to whatever it was, as he was most certain the Ministry would fit it to his weaknesses, _not _his strengths.

"You have been assigned a Ministry official to keep you updated on your new tasks. You will be given a total of ten tasks, with rewards for each completed task and punishments, each more severe than the last, for each failed attempt. On the tenth task, which shall be the most difficult, should you fail, you will be executed without any last words, pleas or otherwise however… should you succeed… which is extremely unlikely… you will be not only rewarded with your life… but with other things beyond your imagination."

Draco let the judge's words sink in. He sat for a long time in silence, then let out a long breath of air he'd been holding. "Have I no choice at all?" he finally asked hoarsely.

"Your alternative option would be execution here and now." The judge gestured a shady looking figure standing in the corner with a giant executioners axe.

Draco gulped, pulling his eyes away from the gory sight. "I-I'll try it…" He told them and several of the jury chuckled darkly.

"Then may whatever god you serve grant you mercy." The judge cracked the gavel against the podium, signaling finality, and leaving the deafening sound to reverberate through Draco's ears as he was pulled out of the courtroom and lead off to start in whatever journey the Ministry had set for him.

**AN: Next chapter; Draco's first test.**


	2. Chapter 2

Draco sighed, staring at the note the Ministry Official had shoved into his grasp promptly after covering him with magical trackers rigged to detonate in his bloodstream should he go anywhere he'd been told not to. He wasn't going anywhere the Ministry didn't want him to go, that's for sure.

Draco ran a hand shakily through his hair, then opened the note and began reading.

**Draco Malfoy,**

**Your first task is the easiest of them all, and it is; Spend tomorrow helping random strangers in the muggle world. Rules; don't tell anyone, don't skip anyone, don't hurt anyone, and NO magic!**

**Your assistant,**

**Mefula**

"Okay, so help people; shouldn't be too hard." Draco sighed again and crumpled the note against his forehead, then let it drop to the table. He looked around, his eyes dull as he took in his surroundings. He now lived alone in Malfoy manor, other than the house elves who stayed out of his way. It was lonely.

Draco decided to get some rest. He would be starting his first task tomorrow.

**…**

Draco woke to a blaring alarm in his ears. He blinked, staring blearily at his alarm clock. He'd set it early, not wanting to be late for his task. His task! He jumped out of bed and hurriedly got dressed in the only muggle clothing he had, ran downstairs, skipping breakfast and ran out the door, apparating to a random muggle town. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

He came out from behind an old broken down building and stood on the corner of an old street, watching people walk by. He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets, fishing for the note. He looked at it again. Nothing too specific… just help random people. What was he supposed to do?

He scanned the sparse crowd for anyone who might need help, then he noticed a little old woman trying to cross the street, waiting for a break in traffic. Any other time, he probably never would have noticed, but since he had been told to watch for things like this, he did, and so, he made his way over to her.

"Ma'am, would you like some help?" He asked as politely as he could, offering his arm as he came up beside her.

She gave him a startled look, staring up into his bluish gray eyes. "Well thank you, young man." She gave him a wrinkly smile and took his arm, allowing him to help her across the road as he watched very carefully to make sure no cars were coming, being very patient to walk slowly. When they reached the other side, the woman gave him a twinkling smile. "Keep being you, my boy. The whole world could use more gentlemen like yourself." And with that, she hobbled away.

Draco sighed, staring after her. Was that it? He looked around again. That had taken only five minutes of his time –probably less… how was he going to fill the _whole bloody day _with doing stuff like this? He stuffed his hands in his pockets and let out a puff of air, knowing at least why his father had failed this one. He'd probably not even made it passed the first task, he was so self-conceited.

Dragging his gaze around the streets again, he spotted a man unloading a truck all by himself, heavy orange bins and bags of potatoes, lugging them from the truck into his store and seeming to have a hard time of it on his own. Draco sighed and hurried over.

"Excuse me, sir?" He asked, coming up behind the muggle.

He turned. "Sorry, lad, can't help you right now, I'm a tad busy." He told him sternly.

"Yes, that's actually what I came over to ask about… could you use a hand?" Draco replied, unfazed.

The man gave him an odd look, eyeing his nice clothes. "Sure, could always use the help. Just grab 'em, and bring them in here, put 'em anywhere, I'll sort 'em out later." The man watched with interest as Draco obeyed, grabbing a crate and carrying it in, then coming back and getting another one. The man chuckled. "Well, thanks." He muttered before he got back unloading as well.

By the time Draco had helped the man unload the entire truck, about twenty five minutes had gone by and he was exhausted, having never done so much physical labor in his life.

The man stuck out a burly old hand and shook Draco's soft, well-manicured one. "Thank you, lad! That would've took a whole hour for me to do alone, thanks!" He shook Draco's hand vigorously, smiling from ear-to-ear at how much time Draco had saved him.

Draco nodded, smiling wearily before moving away, letting out a puff of air. This was exhausting! How was he ever going to bear a whole day of it? He sighed and walked around a bit, eyes searching the crowds for people he could help, though he secretly hoped he could at least catch his breath before he saw anything else.

He sighed, then let out a muffled cry of alarm when suddenly a bucket of soot was dumped on his head. He coughed, moving away and pounding on his chest, wiping frantically at his eyes. He looked up accusingly at a blushing woman leaning out of a window with an upturned bucket in her hands. "Sorry!" She called, then slammed the window shut.

Draco muttered dark nothings under his breath as he attempted to brush the offending soot from his beautiful white-blond hair to no avail. He glared at his reflection in a shop window. His hair was now a faded black, not quite grey color. His pale skin was now a faded grey, as if he had a tan and had been working all day enough to get grimy. It was awful. He managed to brush some of it from his face, but it still overall rendered him unrecognizable.

He sighed and turned around. No use in whining about it. He was bound to get his hands more than dirty this day anyway, being around all the filthy muggles.

And with those thoughts in mind, that's when it happened- a little boy was running across the street, chasing a little animal and wasn't watching where he was going. Draco only had a split-second to react, but it was enough. He dove out and barreled into the child, knocking him over, but efficiently getting him out of harm's way as a big truck barreled passed, laying on the horn.

The boy lay curled under him for a moment, eyes wide as he stared up at Draco, who also took a moment to recover, and then a woman was overtop of them, eyes wide. "Good lord, Albus, you could've been killed! Don't do that! Are you okay? Thank you so much sir." The woman babbled hysterically, pulling her son to his feet and brushing him off.

Draco sat up, looking around with his heart pounding. That had been really close. It had happened so fast he hadn't really contemplated the risk to his own life, he had just done it. Shocked, Draco pulled his knees up and covered his face in his hands. "Oh dear, are you hurt?" The woman knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder, still clutching her trembling son.

"No, no I'm fine." Draco finally managed. He sighed and turned to the boy. "Watch where you're going, kid! You wanna die? You wanna get someone else killed?" He cried.

"I'm sorry, sir." Albus finally stuttered out.

"Albus! Ginny, are you okay?" A voice called, and a young man came running up. It took Draco about three seconds to recognize him as the Boy-Who-Lived. What were they doing in Muggle London? Then again, what was _he _doing in muggle London? Helping old ladies across the street, unloading truckloads of oranges and potatoes (odd combination, by the way), getting soot dumped all over his head and saving Harry Potter's idiotic son from being squashed by a truck.

Potter, having not recognized Draco as his clothes were all dirty and his white-blonde hair had soot in it, knelt down beside him, as his wife had done and put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you." He murmured, green eyes staring at him with fierce intensity.

Draco looked away. "Yeah, well… tell your son to be more careful." He muttered, standing and brushing himself off.

"Indeed, Albus… that was very irresponsible… what were you thinking?" Potter turned to his son, who looked sheepish.

"I-I just…" Draco didn't wait for the boy to explain, he simply hurriedly turned and walked briskly away while the Potters were focused on their son.

Ginny turned to where the man had been to see he had vanished. She turned back to her husband. "Harry, Harry! The man- he's gone." She told him, looking around wildly.

Harry also looked around, but the mysterious man was nowhere in sight. He sighed. He'd wanted to invite the man over for dinner, as a thank you. He hoped he'd run back into the mysterious good Samaritan again sometime… he needed to be properly thanked.

**AN: Next chapter, Draco finishes his first task and goes home! What do you think his reward will be, and any ideas for his second task?**


	3. Chapter 3

Draco stood, panting, eyes roaming. That had been close. Extremely close. He didn't ever want to run into the Potter's again. Sighing, Draco started up at a more reasonable pace, eyes scanning the streets for more people he could help. All at once he spotted a young woman struggling to carry an ill child down the street. The poor girl's face was drawn and pale and she was very nearly skin and bone, as was the mother.

Draco looked back and forth down the road before dashing across and meeting the woman at an angle. "Alright?" He questioned softly.

Startled, the woman nearly fell backwards had Draco not carefully caught her.

"Where are you taking this poor creature?" He murmured sadly.

"M-my daughter, sir. She's ill. I'm carrying her to the hospital." She replied tiredly, dark rims around her eyes. It was very clear the poor woman could hardly stand or walk, let alone carry the child all the way to the hospital he could see in the distance. And once they got there, it was doubtful the poor woman could afford anything.

"Allow me." He murmured, gently taking the delicate girl from her mother and cradling her gently. The woman slipped her arm into his and he helped support her as well, and together, they walked slowly down the streets of muggle London.

**…**

"No, it's fine." Draco assured the woman as he paid for their expenses at the hospital, as well as a good meal for them. Draco stayed with them the whole time the little girl was treated, and carried the girl all the way back to their home, only leaving the woman with the promise he would come back soon to check up on them.

"Bless you, my boy." The woman whispered, nearly in tears. "You are a blessing sent from God Almighty."She leaned up to peck Draco's blushing cheek.

"Good day, ma'am." He dipped his head and turned, walking down the darkening streets. It was time to go home.

**…**

Draco sighed, sitting down to his table wearily. He was starving, as he had skipped breakfast _and _lunch, and it was past the time he normally ate dinner. He smiled wearily, noting that one of the house elves had prepared something for him and left it on the table. It was cold by then, but he eagerly ate it.

Only after he ate the last spoonful, did he notice a letter sitting next to the bowl. Suspecting it to be from the ministry, he groaned, though did open it after staring for a few minutes.

It read;

**Draco Malfoy,**

**You did excellently on your first task. As a reward, you receive the right to tell ****_one _****person about your task. Choose wisely, as this person will be allowed to help you in any way they can without actually doing any of your tasks for you. They too, however, must be sworn to secrecy about the matter. **

**Your second task is more difficult than the first; Have a party at your home, inviting all your enemies from your schooldays. Be nice to them.**

**Rules; don't tell anyone (with exception of one person if you so desire), don't skip anyone, don't hurt anyone, and NO magic!**

**Your assistant, **

**Mefula**

Draco's jaw nearly hit the table when he read the note, and he had to reread it several times before he was convinced that he had read it correctly.

"Oh hell no!" He cried, crumpling the note and throwing it. He dropped back down into his seat and held his head in his hands. "No, no... Draco, it's just the second task, don't quit now. What does that say about you, you stupid, dirty piece of slime…" He trailed off when he realized he was insulting himself.

Draco cast a glare towards the note lying crumpled on the floor before letting out a huff and started clearing away his dishes. How was he supposed to set up the mansion for a party and send out all the invites without magic? Was he supposed to hand-deliver them? Hell had better chances of freezing over.

Draco muttered dark nothings under his breath the whole night, cleaning up the party room and making sure it was fit, then got to work coming up with a list of all his school enemies. This was going to be one _long _list…

**…**

Grumbling, Draco brushed off his jacket once more and fussed over the cuffs of his sleeves before timidly knocking on the door to the home of Harry Potter and family. After running into them the day before, it hadn't been hard to find that they lived nearby in muggle London. He, however, was not at all looking forward to a second confrontation with them.

The door opened and out peeked a little boy – the same little boy Draco had saved the day before. Albus.

"Hi?" Albus said curiously.

"Albus, who's at the door?" Draco heard come from inside the home as he stared down at the little boy, unsure what to think.

"I don't know!" He shouted back, still staring. "Who are you?"

"I'm… Draco Malfoy. Is… um, your father home?" Draco replied.

Just behind the boy, an older boy came up. "Who are you?" He asked, pushing his little brother aside.

"Draco Malfoy, is your father home?" Draco repeated.

"No, he's not."

"Your mum?"

"No."

Draco suddenly felt awkward. "Oh, well, when will they be back?"

"Later."

"I'll… be back later then." Draco started to turn around, only to bump into someone coming up the stairs. He took a step back, startled by the bright green eyes.

"Daddy!" A little girl shot out from behind the two boys, going under Draco to get to Potter, who caught her up in his arms expertly.

"May I help you?" If Potter recognized Draco, who liked to think he did, he didn't show it.

"Yes, um. Mister P-Potter. Draco Malfoy." Draco extended his hand and to his relief, Harry shook it. "I was just… coming by to invite you and your-" Draco glanced past him to see the Weaselette standing there. "Um. Wife. To a school reunion."

Harry stared at Draco for a moment. "When…?" he asked, looking skeptical, but open to new ideas.

"Tonight. Sorry for the late notice… it sort of just… popped up." Draco replied awkwardly.

"Why would you invite _us?" _Ginny snipped from behind her husband.

Draco's silver gaze averted to the red-head. "Past rivalries… should stay in the past." He murmured, and her green gaze narrowed suspiciously.

"Sure. Okay." Harry agreed and Draco inwardly sighed with relief.

"Great, um. Bye." He stepped past the man and quickly made his way down the road.

Ginny turned on her husband. "Why-" She began.

"Gin. Didn't you hear his voice? Didn't you recognize his eyes? I think Malfoy's the mysterious man that saved Albus yesterday…"

**AN: So, how do you think this party is going to go? And who else will Draco be able to contact before the party begins? **


	4. Authors Note1

**AN: Sorry, this chapter was mistakenly a repeat of the next. Please hit 'next' to view the next chapter. :)**


	5. Chapter 4

Draco needed to get away before the party began. He needed a drink… a strong one.

He wasn't sure if he was allowed to use magic at all anymore, so he simply took a trolley to muggle London and walked around aimlessly until he happened across a small pub. Ducking his head, he went in and slid into the nearest empty booth. From where he sat, he had a clear view of the entire pub, and he contented himself to watching the waitresses glide from one table to the next until one reached his.

"Whatya want?" She asked, smacking on some gum as she took out a pen and pad.

"Something strong." He muttered, resting his chin on his fist.

"Strong, eh? Sure I can help you with that, how strong are ya lookin' for?" She winked at him, leaning on the table and pushing out her chest seductively.

He stared at her for a moment. "Just get me some bloody Irish Whiskey." He muttered, rolling his eyes.

The waitress huffed and turned on her heel, heading towards the bar.

Draco sighed and locked his gaze on a particular waitress whom looked rather familiar.

**…**

She noticed a particularly handsome and rather familiar blonde eyeing her. At that same moment, he noticed that she caught him staring.

"I'm sorry I… didn't mean to stare." He murmured, embarrassed.

"Oh," she shrugged and waved it off, serving two gentlemen their drinks. "I get paid by the ogle, so stare all you want."

He chuckled, following her as she went to another table, clearing it off. "I recognize you." He told her after a moment.

"Oh?" she smiled up at him from where she was, bending over a table, scrubbing at it a stain.

"Yes. Actually, I'm quite sure I've seen you around." He replied.

She smiled again, straightening. "Oh come on, is taking you this long to remember my name, Draco?"

He blinked, surprised. "So you remember me too? I'm not just imagining it?" he cried, smiling.

She smiled again, taking a tray. "Yeah, I remember you… How could I forget the Slytherin prince?" she smiled at his expression and moved swiftly around him.

"Ah! I knew it, we knew each other from Hogwarts!" He followed her as she smiled and greeted some new customers.

"You're getting there." She smirked again and checked someone out at the cash-register.

"So… We went out right?"

"No, not even close." She laughed.

"We… Were friends?"

"Not quite… No."

"Acquaintances?"

"…You could say that." She handed someone a receipt.

"So… Are you going to relieve my suffering and give me your name or not?" He pleaded, still following her.

She sighed and stopped, leaning on the bar. "Look Draco… we weren't exactly 'friends' in school, and I'm afraid if I tell you my name you're not going to like it." She finally explained, no readable expression on her face. "And honestly, if you can't remember, then I'm more than just a little offended."

He raised his eyebrows, scanning her features for something familiar, then put out his hands helplessly. "I really don't see how bad it could be unless you were that bloody Granger girl…" His voice trailed off and his smile disappeared, his eyes widening as she stared at him, her lips pressed together tightly. "You are, aren't you?" He accused quietly.

She shrugged, moving behind the bar, absent-mindedly scrubbing the countertop. "So what if I am?" She challenged, glancing up at him.

He was still staring at her blankly, his eyes roaming her delicate features, her big brown eyes, hidden by her long, child-like lashes, her honey-brown hair short and choppy, but in a fashionable way. He admired the way her tank-top hugged her form and showed off quite a bit of cleavage, her shorts were short and tight, showing off two long, creamy legs, not to even mention the nose ring and the eyebrow piercing. She was _not _the Hermione Granger he remembered from Hogwarts. "I don't know." He finally breathed.

By now, she was staring back at him, disgust and amusement battling for dominance in her expression. "Well, I'll let you figure that out on your own; I have work to do." With that, she turned and went to wait on a nearby table, leaving a baffled Draco behind to stare, lost in thought as every man at the table flirted with her.

She was so different! Not at all the bookworm he had known. As her back was turned to him, he saw a tattoo on the back of her neck.

_No. _He mused. _She certainly was different._

Sighing, he moved over to her as she walked back to the bar. "I'm sorry." He apologized. "I've been having a rough time lately." He searched the ground for something to say. "Anyway, I'm having a party at my place tonight… your friends have already agreed to come. Your husband and kids are welcome to come…" He trailed off at her expression.

"Ronald and I aren't married anymore." She explained.

"Oh. Um. Sorry." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well, you're still invited. See you around, Granger." He left her a handsome tip before getting up and walking away.

**AN: So… how do you think the party will go? **


	6. Authors Note2

**AN: Sorry about that last chapter, guys... I don't know where my head has been all week. I've been feeling like shit for the past ten days, so my apologies for the repeated chapter... I'll get to work on fixing the next one for you. Sorry about that...**

**Happy reading, **

**Cerenbus. Snape. Malfoy**


	7. Chapter 5

Draco silently berated himself all the way back home. Granger was so different… he cursed that damn Weasley for obviously screwing something up enough to make her change so drastically. He had to admit though… this new Hermione Granger was rather… luscious.

Draco pulled a face. Luscious! What a word!

Draco felt nauseous.

He hadn't even gotten a single sip of the Irish Whiskey he had paid dearly for at Granger's bar. He needed something to calm his nerves. Otherwise he was going to be tight as a knot for the party tonight.

Tonight. Draco glanced at the clock. Only five more hours and it would be the dreaded 'tonight'. The party started at eight and went until eleven. Just three hours to have to put up with. So far, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were coming, Hermione Granger… questionable. Ron Weasley had said no, absolutely not, bugger off. Neville Longbottom had been surprisingly easy to get up with, and he and Luna Lovegood had agreed to come with surprising enthusiasm. Padma and Parvati Patil agreed to come, reluctantly. Seamus Finnagan, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Ernie MacMillan, and Dean Thomas said they would think about it.

Draco had been… _so _tempted to invite some of his old Slytherin friends just so he wouldn't feel like a single serpent among lions and eagles… but he figured he wasn't allowed to do that. Looking back at the note, it didn't specifically say he _couldn't, _but with his life on the line, he certainly didn't want to risk it.

Draco looked at the clock again anxiously and realized with a start that he had been brooding for two hours. _Two damn hours._ He jumped up, causing his numb legs to tingle madly. He looked at his wristwatch anxiously before grabbing the only muggle phone in the mansion. It had never been used before, and especially not by him, so he had to consult the phonebook for ten minutes before he could understand it and use the damn thing. He called the best caterers he could find nearby and scheduled them to arrive an hour before the party would start, just to make sure everything was in order.

With a sigh, Draco began to pace the large hall that would be used for the party, his footfalls echoing eerily in the silent, empty mansion.

_I'm so lonely…_

Draco sighed and looked at his watch again. Just an hour before the caterers would arrive, and another hour before the dreaded houseguests would first start to arrive.

He fiddled with his cuffs, pushing down the nervous sweat that was threatening to ruin the nice outfit he had changed into while he was arguing on the phone about party favors and food and whatnot. He didn't want anything too fancy, didn't want the Gryffindors to think he was shoving his wealth in their faces, but he _did _want everything to be nice.

Silently, he wondered if any of them would have agreed to come if they knew his motives were purely selfish. He would never have thrown this little get-together had the Ministry not ordered him to do so, promptly and without fail. He knew for sure he was going to screw _something _up, and he be damned if he was going to lose his life over a _party._ He was good at parties. If he was going to fail this challenge, he wanted it to be something _challenging _that tripped him up. He refused to let a bunch of Gryffindors scare him, after all, all the note had said was to throw a party, invite his enemies and be nice to them. He could do that much, and so, by the time the first guests arrived, he had put on his cool, collected mask, and welcomed them – Harry Potter and his lovely wife Ginny – into his home.

Being the first to arrive, Ginny naturally thought this was some elaborate setup, but Harry knew better, and told his fidgety wife to go fix her makeup. She shot him a death glare before going to do just that.

Harry moved over to a rather wild-eyed Draco Malfoy, who turned to look at him with such trepidation that Harry thought the troubled young Slytherin saw him as a ferocious beast rather than the normal man he was.

"Who else is coming?" Harry asked conversationally, helping himself to the punch.

"Oh… I don't know." Draco replied quietly, fiddling with his cuffs again, his eyes locked on the door, praying at least _one _other person would show up… he didn't know how he would handle three hours alone with the chosen one and his oh-so perfect bride… these were going to be the longest, awkward-est hours of his life.

Just as he despaired Harry and Ginny Potter would indeed be his only guests, he saw two figures show up at the open doors, wearing lovely dresses that were both casual and somehow fancy at the same time. One, he recognized as the waitress from the bar with the horribly unladylike manners, and the gorgeous Hermione Granger.

So relieved she had come, he rushed over to take their shawls and bid them to go and find some food.

Hermione felt awkward the instant she and Harry's eyes met. They hadn't spoken in years…

"You look… great." Harry smiled at her, taking in her casually immodest dress, and her partner's equally skimpy outfit.

"You too." Hermione replied without really paying him much mind. She kept her eyes locked on the tables, carefully selecting what looked like it had the least amount of carbs.

"Damn, this place is huge." Hermione's friend gasped, leaning back and spinning around twice, trying to get a good look at everything at once. "Are we early, or something?" She asked Draco as he came back over. She had obviously noticed the lack of other guests.

"Oh… no…" Draco replied quietly, eyes instantly darting to the door.

Ginny returned at that moment, and it took her longer than Harry to recognize Hermione.

"Oh my god…" She came forward and hugged the very unwilling goddess, squealing slightly and making everyone cringe. "Oh Hermione! I haven't seen you in ages, oh my god!" She hugged her again.

"Good to see you too, Ginny." Hermione patted her back awkwardly.

Neville and Luna showed up just then and Draco hurried to greet them, and Padma and Parvati Patil weren't far behind.

"Oh, Hermione, hello!" Luna smiled sweetly, offering Hermione the same unwelcomed hug greeting.

"Luna, hi." Hermione murmured, hugging the blonde back carefully.

Seamus, Michael, Terry, Ernie and Dean all showed up at once.

Draco felt thoroughly overwhelmed now that he knew pretty much all of them where coming, and he floated around from group to group, saying brief 'hello' s and 'thank you for coming' s. He knew how to be a proper host, despite the contents of the crowd.

To lighten the mood, Draco bid the caterers to start the music, which was light and slightly bouncy, keeping everyone in a fairly chipper mood as they talked and laughed and tried to ignore the fact that they were all under the same roof as the bully who had tormented them back in school.

"So tell me… Draco." Harry murmured, moving over to him casually, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other clutching a half-finished cup of punch. "What's this all about?"

Draco bit his lip so hard he was lucky he didn't draw blood. "Like I said… the past should stay in the past. I just figured, after all these years, everyone… including myself… has matured enough to put past rivalries behind us." He replied carefully, avoiding eye-contact at all costs.

Harry nodded, taking a swig of the punch Draco had secretly lined with mead. He figured there was more to it than Malfoy was telling him, but he didn't push the matter, and simply enjoyed himself for the rest of the evening, talking with old friends he hadn't seen in a while.

Halfway through the night, everyone found themselves drunk off their ass from the punch and having a hell of a time finding a bathroom. The food wasn't that great, but no one really cared about the food. Clothes had become a nuisance no one wanted to deal with and there were just… so many rooms.

At least with the group as wasted as they were, so drunk they swore the wall patterns were moving, they would have an excuse to forget the party ever happened in the first place.

Everyone found themselves either having their brains screwed out, or screwing the brains from someone else. Who Draco ended up with, he wasn't sure, but he had been right to assume he would screw something up this night, and so the next morning Draco woke to a pounding headache, and an empty bed.

**AN: So, here's to make up for the last chapter which was a total disaster. Sorry about the long wait, hopefully this makes up for it! Who do you think Draco ended up with, and how do you think the night went?**

**Also, I need reviews before I post any more updates. If I don't know you're enjoying the story, how do I know you want me to continue? Thanks. :)**


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter Seven**

Draco woke the next morning to a pounding headache and an empty bed, though there was plenty of evidence that he hadn't slept alone. After getting dressed, Draco went downstairs to find the house elves cleaning what could be labeled as mass chaos.

Party favors were strewn everywhere, the tables had been tipped over and everything was soaked in punch-flavored piss. Vomit could be found in just about every orifice in the building and clothing hung from the chandeliers.

Sighing, Draco rubbed his tired eyes and stumbled into the kitchen, not bothering to touch the note lying unopened on the table until after he had finished his breakfast.

With a trembling sigh, Draco swallowed the last bite and snatched the letter and tore it open, eyes scanning it rapidly, heart pounding.

**Draco Malfoy,**

**You did well on your second task. While we do not condone the use of alcohol to make things smoother for yourself, you did successfully throw a party with your enemies, and therefore have passed your second task. Your reward for doing such is that you are allowed to use limited magic for the remainder of your tasks unless specifically instructed not to.**

**Don't forget you are still allowed to tell one person about your tasks. Chose wisely.**

**Your third task is this:**

**Change every last Galleon, Sickle and Knut in your family's Gringott's volt into muggle currency. Find a local charity and donate every last pound of it. There shouldn't be a single piece of bronze, gold or silver left in the volt when you're done.**

**You have 24 hours to find a charity. Rules; don't tell anyone (with exception of one person if you so desire), don't skip anyone and don't hurt anyone!**

**Your assistant,**

**Mefula**

Draco's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Clean out his volt? With a shaky sigh, Draco dropped the letter and downed a mighty swig of some of the punch left over from the party. It wasn't all bad, he reminded himself. After falling so far from grace there wasn't much lower he could go, rich or poor.

He could do it. Better than dying.

Draco groomed himself best he could, told his most trusted house elf to oversee the cleaning of the Manor and to immediately start looking to sell it, and left without further explanation.

Draco spent the rest of the morning wandering around muggle London, checking out orphanages and homeless shelters and trying to find the ones that needed the most help. Looking at the note, it said to find one charity. What if he chose two or more? After all, there was more than enough money in his volt to keep several places going for a good long time, no use dumping it all on just one place.

And so, Draco chose five of the poorest orphanages, and seven homeless shelters that desperately needed money and immediately set off for Gingotts.

Safe to say the goblin at the front desk was a tad wary when he told him he wanted all of his gold made into muggle money and that he wanted to take it all out now. As in _now._

It only took three hours, and Draco himself watched as the goblins took out every last coin and cup from the volt. He inspected every corner and made certain it was empty before accepting one of the heavy as hell dufflebags chock full of muggle currency. Not all of it fit in the bag, but there was no way he'd be able to take them all at once. Draco had the money split into twelve bags. He would give one bag to each place and be done with it. Draco's heart was surprisingly at ease as he lugged the heavy bag into the first orphanage, briefly explained to the wide-eyed matron that their financial problems were over, and left.

The bags didn't feel quite as heavy each time he left a building full of cheering kids or crying grateful destitutes.

The last building, an orphanage, was full of children who were sick and had no money to pay for treatment. Draco briefly took the time to visit each child before he left the bag of money with the weeping matron.

Draco spent his evening sitting on the front porch of his Manor, watching the sun set and downing a glass of the last fancy drink he would ever be able to afford. Winky had managed to sell the Manor within the day, and Draco instructed her that she and all the other house elves were freed, and could take the money to do with it as they pleased.

Draco sighed and tossed the empty bottle to the ground, watching as the thousands of glass shards glistened in the light of the settling sun. With a hint of bitterness, he cast a spell that dissolved the broken glass and turned to the empty road, cursing the distance.

With a long, heavy sigh, Draco began walking away. Away from his old life. Away from his old self.

**AN: So i think this task marks the start of the new Draco. What do you think? If you have any ideas for tasks, I'd be really grateful. :D**


	9. Chapter 7

Draco was halfway to Somerset when two Ministry officials appeared suddenly in front of him, flashing their badges and magically cuffing his hands.

"Come with us, Mister Malfoy. Thought you'd get away that easy, did ya?"

"What? What's going on?" Draco cried, and suddenly they were apparating straight into level eight of the Ministry of Magic, the Atrium.

"You failed your third task, Mister Malfoy, _what'do you think?"_

Draco's heart dropped into his stomach. Failed? How ever did they figure he had failed?

"I don't understand, you can't do this! I did everything you told me to do! I didn't fail the task, this isn't fair!" Draco cried, desperately fighting against the two Ministry workers as they dragged him towards the lift, his screams causing many witches and wizards to glance in his direction.

"Excuse me, where are you taking this man?"

Draco's eyes widened in desperation. He had forgotten Harry Potter worked as an Auror, therefore would be at the Ministry! Draco tried to throw himself at the man, but was successfully held back. "POTTER! Tell them to free me! They're lying, they have me on no grounds whatsoever!"

"Shut your gob, Malfoy, you know the rules." One of the men growled.

"Please Potter, they're going to kill me!" Draco screamed, still fighting with all his might as they dragged him onto the lift.

Harry opened his mouth, then, not knowing what to say, simply followed them onto the lift a moment before it could close.

"Why is this man going to be executed?" He demanded, grabbing hold of the side of the lift so he wouldn't be thrown from his feet.

Draco opened his mouth but one of the officials slapped a hand over it before he could speak. "Shut yer trap, Malfoy. An' Mister Potter it's got nothin' to do with yer department, sorry t' bother ya."

Infuriated, Draco tore himself away from the man's hand, falling against the side of the lift. "Listen to me! I haven't told anyone yet, and I still hold the right to! So let me tell him!"

The officials glanced at each other, then nodded hesitatingly.

Draco turned immediately to Harry, bracing himself against the wall. "Potter, at the start of the week I was given ten tasks to complete, ten near impossible tasks or they were going to kill me. They're trying to say I failed my last task, but I didn't! I did exactly what they told me to do, but they say I failed and they won't tell me on what grounds! Please Potter, help me!" He no longer felt the sting of shame at having to ask Harry for help. He was far too desperate.

"Can I come to the hearing? I would like to help." Harry turned to the other two men.

"No admittance." One of the officials growled.

"He has a defense attorney, doesn't he? He has to stand a fair trial!"

The officials glanced at each other nervously.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "This doesn't sit right with me. I'm coming to stand in as his attorney. End of story."

The lift doors swung open at that moment as they reached the nineth level. The men yanked Draco forward and Harry followed behind, prepared for just about anything as they climbed the flight of stairs to the tenth.

"Mister Potter, what are you doing here?" The judge asked in surprise as Draco was pushed into the room and thrust down into the chair.

"I am here as the defense of Draco Malfoy, please begin." Harry replied, taking his place standing on Draco's right.

The judge's lips twitched. "Mister Potter, you do realize this is an execution, not a trial?"

"With all due respect, your honor, he needs to be trialed before you make the choice to execute him." Harry returned.

The judge's lips twitched again. "He already stood his trial last week, he is merely here so we can find out why he was so incredibly stupid as to put money back into his volt."

Draco opened his mouth to protest a moment before a hard, heavy thrust from the end of the executioner's ax hit him square between the ribs. Draco wheezed and leaned forward, pain radiating through his spine. It took him a moment to realize he hadn't been hit with the bladed side. Harry too worried that Draco had been killed there and then, and hurried around to look at him, relieved to see no blood.

"Draco Malfoy, you have been brought here before the Council of Magical law so that we may pass judgment upon you for failure to complete your third task; the task being and I quote;

'Change every last Galleon, Sickle and Knut in your family's Gringott's volt into muggle currency. Find a local charity and donate every last pound of it. There shouldn't be a single piece of bronze, gold or silver left in the volt when you're done. You have 24 hours to find a charity.'"

"Yes, and I successfully completed the task!" Draco replied, his voice hoarse as he had yet to regain his breath.

"WRONG! I sent my officials to inspect your volt to be certain that it was emptied, only to find exactly one million galleans still there; Mister Malfoy that is a lot of money."

Draco spluttered, looking around wildly. _"I cleaned it out. _Don't you think I would have sooner thrown every single bit of that money to the ocean than come here to die?! I've been set up-" Draco let out another groan of pain as he was struck across the chest once again with the butt of the ax.

"Mister Malfoy, we spoke to the Goblin that was running the gate yesterday, he told me that after you had the money transferred, you came back several hours later with all those galleans and told him to put them back. You obviously had hoped that we had already checked your volt and that it would be safe to put them back! You were mistaken!"

"I DIDN'T DO IT!"

"Your honor if I may?" Harry spoke up, stepping forward. "Mister Malfoy, as I understand it, has been targeted by the Ministry for years now. You've been just dying to get him on something, but you couldn't, because he has changed. He's not the boy he was, he's matured, though I'm afraid the same cannot be said for you."

The judge looked appalled. "What are you implying, Mister Potter?"

"That you, or someone else in the Ministry used Polyjuice Potion to put that money in there just so you would have a reason to kill him." Harry replied evenly.

Draco stared up at the judge with wild eyes and a rapidly beating heart, sweat dripping from his brow.

The judge was silent for a moment. "That is… a possibility, Mister Malfoy surely has many foes who would want him dead, however if you are simply surmising, and cannot provide solid proof, then we have the right to execute him here and now. That _was _the agreement you made, Mister Malfoy, that if you failed any of your tasks, you would be executed without question."

Draco tried to swallow the piece of hell lodged in his throat, then nodded, his head hanging. It was hopeless. There was no way he would be able to prove someone else had put that money in there.

The judge was silent as he watched Draco slump in defeat. "Very well. You will be taken for execution straight away." Draco flinched as the judge slapped the gavel down on the podium and prepared to step down.

The executioner closed in on Draco.

"The house elves…" Draco whispered.

"What?" The judge froze.

Draco's eyes widened and he looked up. "The Manor, Malfoy Manor, it sold for exactly one million galleans! I gave the money to the house elves and told them to do with it whatever they wanted! They must have put it away in my volt by habit!"

"Now you're just fishing for excuses. House elves can't use Polyjuice Potion, therefore it was either someone else, or, far more likely, _you._ Take him away."

The executioner grabbed him and began propelling him towards the exit. "NO! I didn't put that money in there! I completed the task! You can't do this!"

Harry watched with a speeding heart. He didn't know why, but he felt incredibly inclined to believe him. He turned desperately to the judge. "If I can get a confession from the person or persons responsible, will you let him go?"

The judge paused for a moment, staring at Harry. "Why would you do that, Mister Potter?"

Harry glanced back at Draco, whose eyes were wide and tear-filled as he pulled against the man who was steadily dragging him towards his execution. "Because I believe he's telling the truth." He replied simply.

The judge sighed wearily, then called for the executioner to wait. "Very well, Mister Potter, be back here in twenty four hours with either a signed confession or the charlatan themselves, or Mister Malfoy will be executed. His fate lies in your hands."

**AN: Do you think Harry Will be able to prove Draco's innocence? :D Thank you guys for all your amazing reviews in the last chapter! You guys rock! Keep it up! :D**


	10. Chapter 8

Harry rushed from the Ministry of Magic, apparating to the first place he could think of. Malfoy Manor.

After interrogating the house-elves, he soon realized that they weren't Draco's house elves, they belonged to whoever had bought the mansion. One of them, however believed that the old Malfoy elves were still sticking together, and shouldn't be too hard to find in Hogsmead. And so that was where Harry went next.

Rather than just search for the elves, he interrogated every person he met, found out who could be a possible suspect based how much they hated Draco and how far they were willing to go to have him done over. He spent most of the day tracking down the house elves, who were of absolutely no help whatsoever. After deciding that it wasn't them, he had narrowed it down to three different people who seemed to have rather large chips on their shoulders for the blonde. However, Harry couldn't be sure that the perpetrator was even among them.

"Well then, to Malfoy's demise!" Harry said as enthusiastically as he could manage, raising a cup of firewhisky and toasting to the two wizards and one witch he had selected. The three cheered and downed their glasses. Harry continued to get them drunk for the next hour, only sipping at his own drink every once in a while to give the appearance of drinking as much as they had. He was more than aware of how quickly time was slipping away.

By the time they all left, they were drunk off their arses and answering Harry's every question without hesitation or suspicion.

"Did any of you do anything to spoil Malfoy? I heard he's being executed later today."

"Really? That's the most brilliantly excellent thing I've heard all year!" The witch purred, hiccupping at the end of her sentence, raising her glass and drinking to Harry's words.

"No mate, I would never try anything against the prat, heard he's good with spells and stuff." One of the other wizards drawled, leaning heavily on Harry from drunkenness.

"What about you?" Harry asked the second wizard, who was oddly silent for a drunk.

"Well… it wasn't me personally who di-did it-" He paused for a moment and pounded on his chest. "But I overheard this bloke the other day, see he was gunna tryan like put money in Malfoy's volter sumthin… idunno how it would get im dead, but it worked I guess!"

Harry froze. "Who? Who was it?"

"Take it easy mate, idunno who 'e was. Erm… actually he was kinda ferm-_fermilariliar_ but see I was drunk…" He stumbled over his words and Harry cringed from the alcohol on his breath.

"Well, what did he look like then?" Harry asked impatiently.

"I dunno…"

"It's important."

"Fine! He was like… stocky an-an loud, he had like red hair…"

Harry thought for a moment, then physically stopped. Oh Merlin he hoped the man hadn't just described Ron…

"Thanks." Harry flashed away, instantly at the doorstep of Ron's home. After their divorce, Hermione had been the one who lost everything. Ron had somehow kept the money, the house, and even the kids. It was no wonder Hermione hated him so much now.

Harry sighed and pounded on the door. "Open up, Ron!" He slammed his fist against it several more times when nothing happened. He glanced desperately at his watch, cursing how much time he had wasted in Hogsmead.

"Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist!" Ron shouted from somewhere in the house, hurrying to answer the door as Harry continued to pound on it.

"Ron."

"Oh, hello Harry…" Ron dropped his gaze to the floor.

"What did you do?"

"What're you on about?"

"Malfoy, what did you do to him?"

"Are you drunk? I smell firewhiskey." Ron snapped, ready to close the door.

Harry stopped it with his foot, not even feeling the pain and tried to push it open further. "I-I had one glass, never mind that Ron, he's about to be executed for Merlin sake! He didn't do anything wrong, did you put that money in his volt?"

"Right, like I had a million galleons just lying around." Ron muttered, trying to close it again.

"But you know who did then? Otherwise you wouldn't know anything about it, nothing has been publicly released yet, Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Like I'd tell you, and pass up an opportunity to see Malfoy done for. You know, thanks for reminding me, I think I want to go and watch his execution."

"RONALD!" Harry couldn't remember the last time he had called Ron by his full name, and it obviously pissed the ginger off.

Ron slammed the door in his face, narrowly missing catching Harry's fingers. Harry felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Either Ron, or someone Ron knew had put that money in Draco's volt. He just had no way of getting Ron to confess to that.

Harry beat on the door again, but this time Ron wouldn't open the door. "Ron! If you confess you can save him! I'll make sure they don't charge you with fraud! Ron, please, you can't let him die like this! Malfoy never did anything to you _that bad _in Hogwarts! Ron, grow up!" he pounded on the door again.

Ron flung the door open, eyes blazing. "The ferret was a git to us at Hogwarts, and now, here he is stealing Hermione from me."

"What?!" Harry spluttered.

"I saw them together, and I saw her go to Malfoy's place."

"For a party, Ron. We were all there, you were invited too-"

"He's stolen Hermione from me!"

"Oh Ron…" Harry shook his head sadly. "You and Hermione haven't been together for almost two years now. Don't blame Draco when he's only been in the picture for the past week. Don't let your anger be the death of an innocent man!"

"Innocent my ass!" Ron spat, ready to slam the door again.

"Ron! Please, all I need is a signed confession, and he won't be killed. Please Ron, I'll never forgive you, or myself if he is killed for no reason."

Ron glared at Harry, with full intents to watch him burn under his gaze. Slowly and carefully he put his face right in front of Harry's. "Read my lips Harry. _Never going to happen." _His breath was thick and hot against Harry's face, and then Harry was hut by a gust of wind as the door was slammed in his face again.

Harry felt a strange clenching in the pit of his stomach. What was he going to do now? He could try to forge Ron's signature, but he hadn't seen it in years, he wasn't sure how much it had changed. He could use the imperious curse on him, but he really didn't want to use an unforgivable, as they were traceable in this day and age. Besides, Ron could plead that Harry had falsified evidence against him and that wouldn't do Draco any favors.

Harry slid to the ground just outside Ron's house, hiding down between the bushes that Ron didn't look after now that Hermione was gone. They were grown in and the thorns poked into Harry's sides, but he didn't care. Glancing at his watch he bit his lip. He'd wasted a lot of time searching Hogsmead and trying to get those three to talk. Now he only had an hour before Draco would be executed, and nothing to stop it. he simply couldn't believe the day was already nearly done.

With a sigh, Harry apparated to the Ministry, requested to be allowed to see Draco before they executed him. Because he had been his defense in the trial, he had no troubles convincing the guards to let him in.

"Potter! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me!" Draco's relieved smile behind the bars of his cell was the first thing Harry saw as he turned the bend.

Harry's heart broke as he saw how Draco's eyes lit up with so much hope, and felt devastated at having to let him down.

"I… I'm sorry Draco. I couldn't… I couldn't do it. I didn't have enough time." He whispered, unable to look the man in the eye.

Draco's smile slowly faded, anguish suddenly in his sad silver gaze. He had to fight with every ounce of his being to not cry. He didn't want to cry in front of Potter. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

Harry watched as the wretched young man slid to the floor, his head leaned against the cold bars, his eyes filming over and staring glassily at nothing in particular. Harry crouched down beside him, the bars separating them, separating their fates. "Do you… want me to stay with you?" He asked quietly.

Draco glanced at him, misery in his expression. He hesitated, then nodded slowly, biting his lip and quickly turning away to desperately fight with his emotions where Potter couldn't see them. Harry sat as close to the boy as the bars would allow, indeed feeling younger than he ever had before. Draco wasn't even thirty yet. He still was a young man, with a boy's face and a much too broken heart.

Harry, not knowing what else to do, pushed his arm through the bars and held it out for a moment. Draco stared, then slowly raised his own and took Potter's hand, feeling reassurance through the warm squeeze. Who else but Potter would be willing to do this for him? Sit with a man damned by the Ministry and sentenced to die in the next hour? Only Harry Potter would have the heart to sit with a man on death row.

An hour was nowhere near long enough for Draco, and soon as he felt it begun, it was over.

A loud clang and creaky shriek alerted the two young men that someone else had entered the prison area. Harry turned to see a tall man clothed in black, his face covered and an ax resting threateningly on his shoulder. It was time.

Harry turned back to Draco, whose hand he still held. "Draco, I'm sorry for letting you down." He whispered, seeing how dull the light behind Draco's eyes had become.

Draco nodded numbly, not wanting his last thoughts to be about how he would have owed the rest of his life to Potter had he actually managed to save him. He stood and dropped his deathly grip from Harry's hand, feeling a shivering cold touch where the warmth and reassurance had once been.

The guards unlocked the cell, grabbed Draco roughly and tied his hands behind his back with muggle ropes, crushing his face against the stone wall so Draco had no chance to escape. Harry flinched when he heard Draco squeak in pain as the guards carelessly yanked him out of the cell, not caring that his head it the side of one of the bars, barely missing his eye.

Harry followed behind, not sure he wanted to see this and not sure if Draco wanted him to see this either, but he felt that abandoning the Slytherin now would be like taking an old dog to the vet and just leaving it there.

"Draco Malfoy, due to your failure to complete your tasks, as well as Harry Potter's failure to prove you innocent, you will be executed. Many anonymous witches and wizards have requested you be executed like the vermin you are, and therefore your request to be executed by way of lethal injection has been denied, you will receive the same punishment as any evil creature, because, my boy, that is what you deserve."

Draco soaked in every word, his body quivering as he stood ramrod straight, trying to at least be dignified in his death, and desperately trying to not feel the weight of the executioner's heavy hand on his shoulder.

Harry stood in the background, shaking his head slowly. They weren't even going to execute him humanely. They were going to use the same method they used for executing dangerous magical creatures. It was such an utter suffocation, and it was starting to piss him off how badly they were treating the man. Harry wasn't going to pretend he hadn't noticed the bruises on Draco's face, not to mention the way the executioner had smashed the butt of his ax against Draco's chest at least five times, probably more when he hadn't been looking. It was cruel.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the guards forcing Draco onto his knees at kicking him when he refused to go down. Finally, they managed to drag him down and shove his face down against the execution block. Harry tried to ignore the tears he saw on Draco's face, the terror in his eyes, the way his whole body was trembling. The two young men locked gazes and Harry dipped his head slowly, unable to look him in the eyes.

He flinched when the ax raised and looked away when it fell.

**AN: Just so you know, this isn't the last chapter. Just keep reading, and go ahead and speculate. ;) This does not, however, reveal whether or not Draco will be alive in the next chapter, so the more reviews I get, the sooner I'll update and the sooner your suffering may end.**


	11. Chapter 9

**AN: Because of your quick and wonderful reviews, my darlings, I have decided not to let you suffer as long as I wanted to. Here's the next chapter.**

**Enjoy.**

Harry flinched when the ax was raised, and looked away when it fell.

In that moment of silence, where the sound of ax against stone rung through the room, Harry thought of all the things about Draco that he remembered and found he would miss dearly.

It was that smile. Harry remembered Draco's smile. Draco's face had never been so lit up with such pure and untamed joy, and most definitely not when looking at his school rival. Draco had-had so much faith that Harry wouldn't fail him. After all, Harry had never really failed before. He had defeated the Dark Lord, for heaven's sake, why wouldn't he be able to defeat a death sentence?

It was those eyes. The look in those eyes to be more precise. They had held so much hope, so much faith that Harry had been his saving grace. And in an instant the light was gone, and the anguish and betrayal had taken over. Harry had indeed seen betrayal in those silvery blue eyes. Harry had betrayed the trust Draco had suddenly thrust upon him. He had trusted with all his heart, simply because there was no other option. If he hadn't trusted Harry in the first place, he would have been executed a day sooner.

It was that hand. Or at least the feeling of Draco's hand in his. Harry could only remember one other time his hand had met Draco's. That one time in the Room of Requirement, Draco had stretched out his hand for help, and Harry had successfully saved him from a terrible fate. The only other time he could think of that Draco had reached out for his hand was the day they met. The day Draco had offered his friendship, and Harry had blatantly refused it. The hand had been left hanging there, untouched and un-reassured.

It was the fierce attempt at bravery. Draco had always come across as a bit of a coward and so it was the strength he had battled to show that Harry remember the most. He had fought so valiantly against the tears that he had nearly broken himself trying to keep them at bay. He had struggled relentlessly not to show his fear and pain, and Harry respected that.

But now that it was all over, Harry couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, the sound of the ax meeting the head block still ringing in his ears and driving him mad. He was chewing on his lip, breath held and heart beating rapidly. His fists were so tightly clenched that his knuckles were white and his nails bit into his palms. His held breath and rapidly beating heart combined with his spinning thoughts and churning stomach were all threatening to cause him to black out.

That smile was gone forever. Those eyes would never show emotion again. Those hands would never again embrace another. Draco never again would get the chance to show how brave he could be. He would never have anything to cry over again. It all over, as Harry feared. Did he dare open his eyes to see the results of his failure? Did he dare open his mind to the sounds around him?

It was only when he felt a crushing hug that he finally opened his eyes, shocked to catch a glimpse of platinum hair, confused to hear choked sobs of relief and terror ringing in his ear. His eyes wide, Harry wrapped comforting arms around a thin and trembling Draco and stared over his shoulder at the ax which was lodged into the head block an inch from where Draco's face had been. His eyes shifted to the judge who was staring at him with an unknown expression.

Draco was alive, and Harry couldn't begin to figure out why. Thinking it not wise to receive a blessing and be so ungrateful as to ask why, he quickly ushered the hysterical blonde from the room to find a safer, saner place to comfort him.

Even by the time Harry had brought Draco down the steps to the ninth level, Draco still hadn't calmed down, and Harry didn't expect he would for quite some time. After all, he had just been dragged through a traumatic experience, and after so many hours of being brave, he was finally broken. It was painfully obvious he was trying to decide if he was actually alive, or if his life was flashing before his eyes in one final moment of existence.

Deciding against taking Draco in this mental state through the massive throngs of people who would undoubtedly be in the Atrium, Harry pulled him down the hall leading to the Department of Mysteries, bringing him to one of the alcoves and helping him sit. Harry sat down beside him and let the man cry himself dry on his shoulder, knowing it would be a while before he regained his composure.

As Harry felt Draco slowly, ever so slowly stop trembling, he thought back to a time he had seen the man like this before, back when he was still a boy and the weight of the impending war lay heavily upon his shoulders.

Harry never had thought about how hard it must have been for Draco, who had been raised all his life by parents who were cold and bullying, and turned around and had different morals drilled into his head the years he spent at Hogwarts. The conflict that must have taken place – Harry couldn't even imagine. Harry himself had always had a clear aspect of right and wrong, despite being raised by cruel people himself. Draco, on the other hand was taught one thing growing up, and something entirely different in school, only to go home for the summer and be taught yet again what he had been taught as a child. How confusing that must have been!

Again the thought of the blonde trying to decide, should he stay and fight with Hogwarts, or go to his parents? What would any confused and scared child have done? He had gone to his parents, despite it all he still loved and trusted them. After so many years of being looked upon as just another evil wizard in the dark house of Slytherin, why would he chose to stay with those who had seen him in that light? Right, wrong, good, evil, where were the lines? They were so blurred. Draco didn't have a choice in the matter, even as he began to realize that he was on the wrong side there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't been unwilling to change, he had been _unable._ And that one choice that he hadn't made for himself had earned him nothing but a lifetime of scorn and hate.

Harry didn't pity Draco. He _ached _for him.

**…**

Draco, to say the least was more than humiliated when he finally came around. He doled out plenty of thanks and apologies, and begged Harry to tell no one how utterly _human_ he was.

Harry had eventually agreed, and with receiving a promise that he would be fine on his own, had briefly left Draco in order to find out just why Draco's time of death hadn't been marked as 23:49, 4th of June 2008.

And so, Harry learned that it had been a test; the Ministry had forced Ron to take the polyjuice potion and put the money in Draco's volt to see how Draco would react to it. Draco apparently had passed the cruel test, and had hereby been released from the contract, and no longer had any more tasks to perform. Needless to say, Harry felt driven to apologize to Ron, simply for thinking how much of an evil bastard he was for letting Draco die. He still was an evil bastard for knowingly participating in such a cruel and inhumane test, but at least he had known that there was nothing he personally could have done to stop Draco from being executed should he have failed the test.

Looking back, Harry was upset he hadn't done more to stop it all. He had known Draco was innocent, but he had simply accepted that there was nothing he could have done. He _could _have whipped out his wand and he and Draco would have gone into hiding. It wouldn't have been ideal, but he would go on knowing he had saved an innocent man from a terrible fate.

Draco seemed a little wounded, too that Harry hadn't tried to physically stop the execution from happening, but his gratefulness to the man for even trying to help him at all kept all resentment at bay. He had been reluctant if not fearful of going home with Harry, who had offered the now homeless man a place to stay.

Draco couldn't bring himself to look his former enemy in the eyes that night, as Harry made up a bed for him on the couch and asked him at least five times if he would be alright on his own. He had completely misjudged Harry, and suddenly had a longing for the past. If he could go back, and remember everything that had happened in this life, he would change absolutely everything. Not only so he could take away the heavy weight of debt he now felt he owed Potter, but also so he could have felt this _wanted _as a child.

Draco fell asleep that night with a brief taste of what it would have been like to have Harry Potter as a friend. It was bittersweet, and the kind of thing one could become easily addicted to. Harry was fiercely loyal and dependable. Draco hadn't had many people like that in his life. He didn't know how one could miss something they'd never had, but Draco found that he sorely missed the sensation of someone deeply caring about his wellbeing.

Harry, on the other hand, fell asleep that night knowing what it was like to physically hate himself. He hadn't done any more and he was beating himself up over it as he tossed and turned and kept waking Ginny. The scene kept replaying in his mind, only every time the ax went down, Harry was splattered with Draco's blood. He hadn't had any clue that the executioner wasn't actually going to kill the man. And he had just stood there, eyes turned away. He'd had his wand, he hadn't been held back, nothing had been hindering him from _doing _something. Yet, why hadn't he? He hadn't felt some strange sense that everything would be okay – had in fact felt quite the opposite, he hadn't known beforehand that it was merely a test and that Draco was going to pass with flying colors.

Come to think of it, Harry still didn't know what they had been testing for. Draco had reacted to their false accusations as any other man would have; with anger, confusion and fear. He had reacted to his looming death the same as any other man; with hurt, conflict and acceptance. So how could he have possibly failed? Letting out the breath he had been holding for far too long, Harry rolled over for the last time and closed his eyes, falling into a restless slumber.

**AN: Surprised? Me too. I wasn't sure exactly how this was going to play out, but personally I really enjoy how it turned out. I am very satisfied with this chapter, and feel the end of the story coming up soon! Let me know what you think, and I'll continue based on that.**


	12. Chapter 10

The next morning, the Potter family tiptoed around as they got ready for their day, not wanting to wake Draco who was still soundly asleep on the couch after the most exhausting week of his life. At one point, when the children had become too loud, Ginny had suggested that Harry move Draco to their bedroom. After all Draco had been through in the past couple days, manhandled with such terrible, uncaring people, Harry had carried the thin man with ease and as gently as possible. He felt that simply levitating him would have been too impersonal.

Draco hadn't so much as stirred from the movement, and continued sleeping undisturbed when Harry left him in the bed and drew the curtains.

Ginny had gone to work after taking the children to school, though Harry had taken the day off so he could be there when Draco woke. When Ginny had inquired whether it was because Harry didn't trust the man alone in the house, he had replied firmly that it was because he didn't trust Draco to stay put with no one to keep him there. He didn't want the poor man to leave, not when he was still in such a fragile state from all the Ministry had put him through.

It was just after lunchtime when Draco woke, coming to find Harry poring over some paperwork in the kitchen.

"Hey." The word so simple, so informal and concise, held hoards of emotion behind it.

"Good afternoon, Draco. Sleep well?" Harry replied gently, watching from behind his wire-rim glasses as the drowsy man slowly made his way into the room, seating himself rather stiffly in the chair across from him.

"Better than I have in ten years." Draco admitted with a sort of half grin that only lasted a very brief moment, quickly melting back into the same confusion that had become as customary as his trademark smirk.

"That's good." Harry, feeling incredibly awkward for reasons he had yet to decide on, stood and offered Draco some breakfast, of which he quietly refused.

"You should eat. You haven't eaten in days, and don't try to say otherwise. I know the Ministry wasn't feeding you."

At the mention of the Ministry, Draco grew somber and Harry instantly regretting bringing it up. It would understandably be a sore subject for the Slytherin, and Harry couldn't see the Ministry redeeming itself in the near future. No, it would be a long time before Draco forgave. And it would be longer still before he forgot.

**…**

Ginny was much like her mother in the sense that when she had a guest, she couldn't bear to do anything less than her best to make them feel welcome, no matter who they were… or rather who they had once been. And so, she had gone straight to the store after work to buy Draco some new clothes. The ones he was wearing, she recognized as the dressy black suit he had worn when he was still in Hogwarts. They still fit him loosely, even though they had been fitted to him specifically at the start of his sixth year, meaning he hadn't gained any weight back after the war. Now, they were a faded grey color and threadbare. Ginny couldn't imagine that it was very comfortable to wear the suit day in and day out.

And so, when she had come back home, Draco had been surprised to say the least when she had thrust the new clothing into his arms with strict instructions to not come out of the lavatory unless he was in them. She took his old suit and burned it.

Draco came back out a new man, wearing a pair of blue jeans, black boots, a gray dress shirt and a faded olive green jacket to wear over it. Instead of looking out of place in the muggle clothing as he thought he might, the look suited him, and so as he sat down to supper with the Potter family that night, he felt comfortable rather than awkward, and even managed to participate in conversation.

Albus and James, who recognized Draco from the day he had come to invite Harry and Ginny to his party, continued to pelt him with questions even after being scolded by their mother. Lily, despite having also seen Draco, swore up and down that she'd never seen him before in her life.

Harry and Ginny for the most part managed to keep the conversation light, and the family plus one got through the meal without too many painful silences or awkward questions.

Harry had to nearly resort to begging Draco to stay again, as the man seemed desperate to get back the pride he had lost over the past weeks… no, more like years.

"You're smart, and a good wizard. More importantly, you are a good man. I have no doubt at all, that your pride is still in there somewhere, and that your ego just needs a light dusting. But in the meantime, you really should stay."

Draco, despite resolving to not laugh at such an insult, barely managed to conceal his grin. Normally any wise-cracks Potter had to offer would be considered stinging insults. Now… it just didn't hurt knowing that Potter didn't mean it to be insulting.

Ginny, with the help of Harry, had transfigured the couch into a bed to be more comfortable, and after a few awkward biddings of good night, the Potters went off to get ready for bed for the second night Draco was to be staying with them.

"Well?"

"He's… I still don't trust him, I mean he's _Malfoy _but… you're right. He's _not _the same Malfoy we knew as kids… he doesn't see me as anything but what I am now, and I suppose he doesn't deserve any less." Ginny reluctantly murmured, facing Harry as they slowly drifted to sleep.

Harry smiled lightly. The only thing he had been concerned about was Ginny putting her foot down and not allowing Draco to stay with them. Man of the house or not, Harry knew better than to not follow Ginny's wishes. Had she said no, he would have had a hard time of deciding to help Draco, or to obey his wife.

"Thanks love." He kissed her lightly on the forehead before turning off the lamp and slowing falling asleep.

Draco's night was just as comfortable and quiet as the night before. However… for some reason he was having trouble falling asleep. Something new was bothering him, and he had yet to put a finger on it.

**AN: Sorry it's been a while. Hope you like it :)**


	13. Chapter 11

Draco spent the next two weeks with the Potter family, recovering from his ordeal. He and Harry spoke more often, and even began sharing their love for Quidditch and other childhood fandoms they had yet to grow out of. Ginny would shake her head at them, but then knew that boys, even if they were men, would _always _be boys.

It was the start of the third week that Draco really began fitting in with the Potters, asking Harry for advice on potential jobs so he could buy himself a flat. Harry insisted that Draco could stay as long as he needed, and Draco insisted that he wouldn't impose any longer than necessary.

Draco was surprised, but delighted when one day, Hermione was having dinner with them and offered him a job at the Moonshadow Restaraunt and Pub, her place of work. He eagerly accepted, and started right away.

"So all you have to do is dress nice, smile, and take the customers to their seats. I'll get you going on taking orders after you get the hang of that, but for now that's all you need to do. Got it?" Hermione, who everyone who frequented the pub called 'Minnie', led Draco around, showing him all the tables, and pointing to the table numbers.

"Just make sure you keep track of who's at what table, and who's leaving, and what tables have been cleaned, and which ones haven't. If they ask to be seated at the bar, you need to know off the top of your head if there are any seats available, and if not, request to seat them elsewhere. If they insist on the bar, then tell them in your nicest voice that no seats are currently available and they'll need to wait. No matter where you seat them, remember to give them a menu. You got all that?" Hermione leaned against the counter, shoving a pen behind her ear.

"Um. I-I think so." Draco, who hadn't worked a day in his life before this, was decidedly nervous.

"You'll get the hang of it." She assured him. "Ah, here's our first costumer of the day. Please go greet them the way I showed you and take them to any table." She moved behind the bar, keeping a close eye on Draco as he nervously obeyed, approaching the customer.

"W-welcome to Moonshadow's. Would you like a table or a bar seat?"

"The bar'd be fine."

"Right this way." Draco took a single menu then paused. "Just you in your party, sir?"

Hermione smiled when she heard him remember to ask.

"Just me." The wizard replied.

Draco nodded and continued leading the man to the bar. "A waitress will be with you shortly to take your order." He told the man politely, hurrying away to hide in the back room, where Hermione was waiting for him with a scowl. His face paled. "Did I do something wrong?"

Her scowl faltered and she snickered. "Nope. I just wanted to see that look on your face. You did great, Malfoy." She winked and disappeared to the front to take their customer's order.

Draco let out a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall for a moment before going back out to take his station at the front of the restaurant. "I can do this." He told himself with a small smile. And if he put his mind to it, he could do just about anything.

**~Epilogue~**

Over the summer, Draco earned enough money to begin renting his own flat near the Moonshadow Restaurant and Pub, where he continued to work alongside Hermione 'call me Minnie' Granger. The two worked just as friends for the first several months before discovering that they liked each other. A lot.

Draco kept in contact with the Potter's, regularly joining them for meals or to watch Quidditch on the telly with Harry, James and Albus. It became customary for Ginny to buy Draco a new outfit every month or so, times in which she ritually burned anything he had bought for himself since the past outfit she had gotten him, resigning him to admit defeat every time he tried to be his own stylist. He had to admit though, Ginny seemed to have an eye for what suited him.

Draco managed to track down his old House Elves, the closest things he'd had to family over the years, and made sure they were doing alright. In fact, they were doing better than he. They had used the money he had given them from selling the manor to buy their own place, and started a House Elves Boutique. It was a flourishing business, and Draco was amazed at their independence. They readily agreed when he requested that they keep in touch.

In the spring of 2009, Hermione and Draco moved in together. Ron was arrested later the day after for assaulting Draco, but was released and given a restraining order to keep him from going within five hundred broomsticks of Draco, valid until the year 2450.

The summer of 2010, Draco and Hermione welcomed Scorpius Malfoy into the world, and wed not long after. The winter months proved to be challenging when the Ministry began giving him trouble again, trying to use his former Death Eater status to get a permit to take Scorpius away from him. Their attempts were met head-on by the joint efforts of the Potters, Hermione, Draco's former house elves and even the Weasley's (minus Ron, who was still sulking over the restraining order). The Ministry never gave him trouble again afterwards.

Draco kissed his wife under the mistletoe, pulling away to smile at her. His eyes roamed the Christmas tree, and little Scorpius who sat under it pulling the lights off and untying all the bows. This was it. Yes, this certainly was the reward beyond his imagination that the Ministry had promised all those years ago when he had first begun his tasks. He had doubted back then that such a reward existed, and, though the Ministry hadn't been the one to dole it out… it was a reward none the less. A reward beyond his wildest imaginations.

And for the first time in his life, he felt completely happy.

**~THE END~**

**AN: Okay, so cheesy ending, right? I usually have sad endings, so don't expect my other stories to end like this all the time. Be grateful I was in a good mood when I wrote this. :p**

**THANK YOU TO ALL MY FAITHFUL READERS AND REVIEWERS, I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY LITTLE HEART, AND SO DOES DRACO AND HERMIONE AND HARRY AND ALL MY LITTLE PUPPETS. :)**


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